


A Little Bit Bewitched

by allofthepixels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Tickling, Ticklish Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthepixels/pseuds/allofthepixels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A witches curse rebounds, leaving Dean just a little bit sensitive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Will you two be alright while I run out to pick up Garth?" Sam was still wearing his mud-covered flannel from the hunt, not having time to change after their hasty retreat back to the bunker.

"I believe we’ll be okay," Cas looked at Sam skeptically and back to an unconscious Dean, whose head lay in his lap. "I’ll monitor him to see if the blast had any effect on him other than …" he gestured downward.

"If he isn’t up by the time we get back …" Sam trailed off, forehead was laced with worry lines. 

"Go Sam, I’ll call you if anything changes," Cas’ hand moved through Dean’s hair unconsciously, soothingly sliding through the blonde strands. 

When the taller man left, Cas continued watching Dean’s face. Despite getting hit by a rebounding hex while they were ganking a coven of witches, he seemed surprisingly peaceful — like he was sleeping. 

"Cas?" Dean’s brow knitted together, coughing out his name. 

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas’ hand slid to his shoulder, squeezing it in relief. 

"F-fine!" Dean jumped, pulling away from Cas’ body with a sharp breath, only to pull back into the warmth of the angel’s body.

"Are you hurt? Did I do something?" Cas’ hand slid away from his shoulder and landed somewhere on his side. 

"N-nohoho!" Dean let out a giggle, his hips squirming away from the fingers with a squeal. But again he found himself back in Cas’ lap. 

"I think the hex has some side-effects, Dean," Cas pulled his hand off the giggling man. "It must have heightened your sensitivity to touch."

Dean whimpered at the loss of contact, rolling closer to Cas to brush his side against the back of Cas’ idle hand, biting back a smile at the sensation. 

"Not sure what’s happening," Dean spoke through stifled giggles. "Feels weird, Cas,"

"This does?" Cas ran the back of his knuckles over Dean’s rib cage purposefully, eliciting a more pronounced giggle from the man.

"Yahahes!" Dean pulled himself toward Cas again. "T-t-ticklesss!"

"Why do you keep moving toward it?" Cas teased, tweaking at his hip bone as his shirt rode up, reveling in the desperate sounds he made. 

"I-I dohohon’t knohohow!" Dean seized up again. "Feels weird when you touch me but —" he shivered and found the strength to sit up and move out of his lap. He lurched forward grabbing his head. "— hurts if you don’t."

"Sam will be back soon to help us figure out what’s wrong," Cas tried to rub a soothing hand over Dean’s back but it only managed to make him squirm. "What do you need me to do, Dean?"

"I don’t know," Dean’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated, twitching with each second he sat on the opposite side of the couch. "I can’t think, I—" he clutched his ears, hearing a high pitched sound ripping through his head. 

"Do you need me to —" Cas held up a hand over Dean, silently asking. "Maybe the stimulation is the key to stop the pain?"

"I don’t know, I’m willing to try anythi—fuck! It feels…" Dean grabbed at his head again. "I can’t! Please! " 

"Okay," Cas rubbed at Dean’s knee in an attempt at a comforting gesture and Dean let out a breath. "Is this helping?"

"Makes it easier to focus —" he flinched at the contact. "I can still hear this sound, like a ringing? It only goes away when — ah!" Cas squeezed his knee to reassure him, bringing out a bubble of laughter. "There!"

"When it tickles you, you mean?" Cas felt himself fighting a smile. "It goes away the more it tickles."

"F-fuck! I don’t know," Dean groaned when Cas lifted his hand, brows knitting together and forehead wrinkling in a way that reminded Cas of Sam. 

"Is it gone when I do this?" Cas quickly spidered both hands over Dean’s stomach, making the man squirm back into the cushion of the couch with a laugh. 

"Yea-haheas!"

"And it’s back when I do this?" Cas lifted his hand again and after a few seconds Dean had his head in his own lap groaning. 

"I’ve never heard of such a spell," Cas looked at Dean for a second longer before giving his knee another squeeze. "It’s ingenious really. Forcing you to subject yourself to your — uh— sensitivity to avoid pain. ”

Cas had found out about tickling a while back when Dean discovered certain parts of the angel’s body were extra sensitive. Although Dean had taken to poking and prodding at Cas’ sides and pinching at his thighs to get his attention and to make him yelp at inopportune times, Cas hadn’t had the chance to extract some revenge. This could be fun, he thinks.

"Yea-haha? Well you can go find that bitch and compare no-hohotes on her genius and find a way to stop it!" Dean groaned, but leaned into the torturous touches to feel relief from the ache in his head. 

"I was simple saying that –" 

"Yea-haha, I get it, Cas," Dean hissed when the sound returned to his head. "Help me, please?"

"If you insist," Cas manhandled Dean’s sides until he had the man laying flat on the couch, straddling his torso. "Where should I start?"

"D-don’t be a dick, Cas!" Dean gritted his teeth, sure he was turning red from embarrassment. Stupid fucking witches.

"As you wish," Cas wiggled his fingers gently over Dean’s ribs, fluttering them down over his stomach and around his sides in lazy patterns. Dean threw his head back in laughter, finding his body desperate to escape the sensations even though he knew it was the only way to keep the sonar sounds out of his head. 

"N-ahahah! Cahahahas!" He wiggled his torso and found his arms reaching up to grab at Cas’ wrists. He managed to capture them both only to nearly double over from the intensity of the sounds in his ears. "F-fuck!" 

"Dean, know that I’m only doing this to save you pain," Cas flicked his hand and Dean found his arms pinned over his head against the arm of the couch. 

Cas couldn’t fight his grin now. He enjoyed being able to get a rise out of the hunter and watching him squirm, his face without frown lines.

"C-come ohohon!" Dean whined as Cas’ fingers continued to swirl over his upper body. "I hahahate thihis!" 

"I’m sure you do," Cas replied, his hands drifting up toward Dean’s underarm. 

The man seized harder, shaking his head “no” with more desperation.

"Not there, not there, not there! Cahahas!" He let out a stream of belly laughs and profanities as Cas’ fingers poked away at the exposed hollows of skin. He tugged desperately at his arms but they remained pinned by the force.

"I’m sorry. I’ll move," and Cas’ fingers wandered around Dean’s pant line, pulling a full-on shriek from the hunter as he shook his head and body side to side. 

"Wahayhayt a sehehec!" Cas paused and Dean felt air pulling back into his lungs, slowly but surely, but also heard the humming of the painful sound returning. 

"Juhust not as intense, Cas," he tugged at his arms. "Doing it light is good enough, I prohomise!"

Cas released his arms with another flick of his hand, and eased himself off of Dean. Instead sitting back next to him and offering him to rest his head back in his lap. 

"We’ll figure out how to end this, Dean, I promise," Cas drew tiny tickly circles over his stomach as he spoke, eliciting little giggles that were enough to stall the pain but not enough to send him into a laughing fit. 

"Tha-hanks Cas," Dean sighed into his touch.


	2. Part II: A Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Garth found out how to fix it and it kind of sucks for Dean.

When Garth and Sam came within arms reach of the door, they could hear the lightest of giggles coming through from inside. 

"Cas, how’s Dean doing? Is he up ye—" Sam began, but trailed off when he spotted Dean laying face down in Cas’ lap, his arm lightly covering his face to hide his smile as Cas’ hand drew gentle circles over his t-shirt. 

"Hello Sam," Cas nodded, "Garth." He continued drawing the circles as Dean leaned up into the touch. "Anything new on the source of the curse?"

"We think there might be a hex bag hidden somewhere in the car or around the house and we were going to go back and look once we were sure Dean-o here was still alive," Garth laughed a little at the pink rising in the other hunter’s cheeks. "He’s looking like a little cutie, giggling like that."

"Yoohoou’re behegging for an ass-kicking, Fitzgerald," Dean bit his lip before biting out his failure of a threat. 

"Uh. Cas, why are you, uh, tickling Dean?" 

"The sensations alleviate his pain," Cas replied simply, trailing his fingers in straight lines up and down Dean’s back making him buck up.

"Eahaheeheesy!" Dean’s laughter sped up, bubbling out of his belly. 

"What pain? The curse?" Garth looked like the wheels in his brain had started turning just a bit. 

"We’re not entirely sure, if I stop touching him he feels — is it alright if I stop to show them, Dean?"

"Yeah, whatever Cas, make it quick," Dean clenched his eyes shut, readying himself for the high pitched ringing sound that was bound to shoot through his head. 

Cas’ fingers stopped and he could feel the tingly, barely bearable urge to laugh die down only for it to be replaced by the sharp ache in his head. 

"Motherfucker!" His hands rubbed furiously at his temples, body curling up on himself. 

"What does it feel like, Dean?" Sam asked as Cas replaced his hand, resuming his gentle ministrations. 

"It’s like some dog whistle, like a high pitch, dolphin killing death ray," Dean huffed, his hands falling limp in front of his head. 

"It also seems to have boost his sensitivity to touch," Cas added, knowing Dean would be hesitant to share that part of the curse. "See?"

Cas ran his finger very softly over the back of Dean’s hip and the slightly exposed crevices of his underarms. The touch was so light, yet Dean surged upward. His laughter was bright and bold as he wiggled away from Cas as best he could, until the painful sonar sound sent him reeling back.

”What is this a tickle curse?” Sam looked skeptical. 

"There’s plenty of lore about the ‘tickle monster,’ right? This might have something to do with that." Garth shrugged and Dean rolled his eyes through a light burst of giggles. 

"That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever h—ah! Cahahas!" Dean shook as Cas’ fingers grazed his hip again. 

"If you’re not going to say something constructive, I won’t hesitate to reprimand you, Dean," Cas smiled. 

"You son of a bi— nohoho!" Cas’ fingers wiggled over his belly. 

"Gratuitous profanity is not constructive,"

Dean grumbled, biting back whatever he was going to say to avoid another unnecessarily bad assault. 

"Can you stay with him for a while longer, maybe get him to sleep?" Sam asked, eyeing his laptop and a stack of volumes across the room. "The Men of Letters have to have something on this." 

"Dohon’t tahalk about me like I’m nohot hehehere!" Dean hissed.

Although he had to admit, he did feel sleepy. The softest sensations from Cas were only a little uncomfortable, but he could imagine closing his eyes for the just a little bit. His lids grew heavier at the thought. 

"Of course, Sam," Cas said solemnly before looking back down at Dean. "If you can rest, I’ll stay with you."

Dean took a slow breath and nodded, clenching his eyes shut and trying to let the rhythmic motions of Cas’ hands soothe him into sleep. Cas started humming what sounded like an off-key attempt at “Hey Jude.” 

The effort was enough to make Dean smile as he finally dozed off.

—-

"Should we wake him?" Garth’s voice was the first Dean heard when he started coming around. "We know how to fix it now, so we might as well."

"He will not be happy about this development," Cas whispered, carding one hand through his hair, the other still roaming over his back.

"He’ll be happy to get it over with at least," Sam sighed and Dean decided it was time to re-join the party. 

"Wha-ha-t’d I miss?" he yawned, stretching up without moving too far from Cas’ wandering fingers. 

"We’ve got the cure," Sam looked nervous and Dean hated that look. It meant bad news. 

"What do I have to do?" Dean tried to lighten the look of worry on their faces. "Gargle Witch piss, eat bat intestines, get a midnight smooch from Garth?"

"While I’m flattered," Garth grinned lazily, "the cure actually makes a lot of sense. We just gotta tickle it out of ya!" 

"I’ll take the witch piss, please," Dean groaned. "How long?"

"The longest case we’ve read had four hours, the shortest was fifteen minutes." 

"Why couldn’t I have just gotten turned into a toad or some shit?"

"Toad transfiguration spells are often fatal, Dean," Cas chastised him, missing the point as always. 

"Alright, uh, I guess y’all can start up and try to cure me," Dean seemed so uncomfortable. Sam bit back a smile. 

"Aw, Dean, you have to ask us to tickle you," Sam shook his head. "It’s too much."

"Watch it, Sammy," Dean huffed. "You may be the size of the Chrysler building but I can still kick your sorry ahahahasss!" 

Cas darted in with a more purposeful touch along his rib cage, gently jostling Dean back onto his back so he was flat against the couch cushions. 

"Now, Dean, if you can stay still and let us help you I don’t need to use my grace to hold you," Cas spoke seriously. "But if you move too much and stall the process of breaking this curse, you’ll force my hand."

"Wahahat?" Dean yelped when he felt hands tugging at his boots, his legs started to kick out of instinct. 

"A little help, Cas?" Sam’s couldn’t hide his amusement. Cas nodded his head and Dean felt his ankles being pinned to the arm of the couch. 

Garth saddled up at his head, pulling his arms up and sitting on them. 

"This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me, Dean," the skinny man clasped his hands and started in on his underarms. 

"Gahahaharth!" the extra heightened sensitivity of his arms was enough to get him shaking his head, desperate to beg, lie, cheat, promise, weep to get the stupid sensations to stop. 

When Sam started scratching at his feet, a spot Dean hadn’t considered all that ticklish before, Dean could feel his laughter fade to something closer to wheezing with the occasional protest of “No!” forcing its way through.

"It’s going to be okay," Cas rubbed a soothing hand over Dean’s chest, the back of one knuckle grazing his cheek bone. "You can do this, Dean."

"Cahahas, I cahahan’t!" Dean shook his head desperately. "Pleaheeheese!" 

"You’re going to get through it," Cas’ fingers wandered near his pant line, drumming near what he knew to be a sensitive part. "Let it out."

Dean laughed and shook and could feel tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced this level of ticklishness before in his life. He willed himself to crawl out of skin, wanting to be anywhere but where he was. Another more focused pinch at his hips made him feel as if something in his brain broke. 

"Something’s changed," Cas urged the other two to stop, touching two fingers to Dean’s head. "I think it’s done."

Dean heaved a sigh of relief, taking in desperate lung-bursting gulps of air. 

"About damn time," he huffed, reaching out of instinct to grab at his head in case it started to ache. 

"Do you hear that sound anymore, Dean?" Garth stood off of his hands, allowing him to lower them down gratefully. 

"I — uh — I don’t, I think?" Dean took in the room, for the first time feeling as if he was out of the daze he’d been in since waking up from the curse. 

"You should rest more, Dean," Sam walked over toward his head. "Get yourself back in fighting shape."

"If Cas would get off of me," Dean muttered, shifting uncomfortably. All the embarrassment from how needy and desperate he had been for Cas’ touch at the height of the curse came flooding back to him, bringing a red tint to his cheeks. 

"Of course," Cas could sense Dean was flustered, so he moved from his perch over his torso. For a minute he wanted to explain to him that he didn’t need to feel embarrassed. Cas would always be there to help his hunter. 

But as Dean turned on his side, his face hidden into the plush cushion, Cas decided that could wait. They had all the time in the world.


End file.
